He reaches around, finds my clit, and I shatter.
This orgasm rips through me like a wave. I'm screaming and I can see it in the reflection, can see myself coming apart while he fucks me through it.
He doesn't slow down.
"One more. You're going to give me one more." He bites down on my shoulder, still driving into me. "And then I'm going to fill you up so deep you feel me for days."
The words alone nearly send me over again. He speeds up. Impossible, brutal, and I'm climbing again, and I don't understand how my body has anything left.
"Come," he commands. "Right now.Come."
I obey.
This one breaks me. Tears streaming down my face, body convulsing, and I feel him follow, burying himself deep and pulsing inside me. He groans as he fills me with bursts of hot, thick come.
We collapse against the glass.
For a long moment, neither of us moves. His weight is pinning me, his cock still twitching inside me, and I couldn't move if I wanted to.
I don't want to.
Eventually, he pulls out slowly and turns me in his arms. I'm a wreck of tears, sweat, probably mascara everywhere, and he looks at me like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
"That," I say when I can speak again, "is what I've been missing my whole life."
"Those boys didn't deserve you."
"No. They didn't." I lean into him, let him take my weight. "But you do?"
"No." He presses a kiss to my forehead. "But I'm going to keep you anyway."
He carries me to bed, then climbs in beside me and pulls me against his chest.
"I think I'm falling for you," I murmur into his skin. "Which is insane. It's been a week."
"It's been the longest week of my life." His arms tighten around me. "And I've been falling since day one."
Outside, the ocean crashes against the cliffs. Somewhere out there, my stalker is watching, waiting, planning.
But in here, wrapped in Cesar's arms, I'm not afraid.
8
Cesar
The motion sensor on the east perimeter triggers.
I'm awake before the alert finishes buzzing. Diamond is curled against me, warm and soft, and I ease out of bed without waking her. Grab my phone. Check the camera feed.
There.
A figure moving along the cliffside path, hugging the rocks where he thinks the cameras can't see him. Dark clothing, baseball cap. The same build as the shadow from the gate footage.
The Stalker. He finally got impatient.
I pull on pants, a black shirt. Retrieve my knife from the nightstand drawer. It’s eight inches, serrated edge, the one I've carried since I got out. I stuff my handgun down the back of my pants, just in case. The rifle is by the door but I don't reach for it. This isn't going to be a long-range situation.
This is going to be personal.
